


Days Unwinding

by PFDiva



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Character, Cuddles, Good Cows, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, asexual character having consensual sex, does it count if each of them wanks it but not together?, handjobs, probably, shower sex??, spoilers for 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: A day like any other for two men in a cabin in Scotland somewhere.  Unremarkable.  Unremarked-upon.  Precious.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 22
Kudos: 234





	Days Unwinding

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something indulgent that involved touching. Thanks to Purreve for the beta, but I touched it last, so all mistakes are my own.

There is sunlight in Jon's eyes, and he would usually curse it. But today, it has woken him to the sight of Martin's slack, sleeping face, his hair falling into it, the brassy red highlights picked out in it by the morning sun. It must tickle, is Jon's first thought. The second is that he's just making an excuse to touch Martin. The third is that he's _allowed_ to touch Martin. So he does. With careful precision, he pushes back the soft strands of hair falling into Martin's face, careful not to touch Martin in spite of himself, careful not to wake Martin.

The hair falls back as soon as Jon lets go. He pushes it back again, the side of his hand brushing Martin's face as he does. Martin doesn't stir, but his skin is warm under Jon's, even for that barest brush. The hair falls right back where it was before, and Martin's breath huffs it away.

Jon sinks his fingers into Martin's hair to push it back this time. Incidentally, he also caresses Martin's face, and Martin turns into the touch with a soft, low sound. It's a sleepy noise, content, and it stabs through Jon like a hot knife through butter. It lodges in his chest and steals his breath, almost making him choke on emotion. He cannot remember ever loving someone so much it hurt like this. Perhaps, once, he loved Georgie to distraction and suffering, but time has dulled the sharpest emotions of that relationship. For good and ill.

Jon forgets about the falling hair in favor of caressing Martin's face, drawing out more of those sleepy mumbles until Martin's eyes open. They are so big and brown and soft, especially now, weighed down by sleep and contentment.

Martin makes a pleased sound when he sees Jon, his eyes crinkling into a sleepy smile as his arms come around Jon, pulling him close. Martin is so warm, and Jon's head fits under his chin like it was made to be there. He continues to caress Martin's face, his neck, with slow, deliberate motions.

" _Jon_ ," Martin moans, more a mumble than anything coherent.

"I want to touch you," Jon says, in answer to the unasked question, and Martin moans his name again. Jon doesn't have to ask if Martin wants him to touch. Martin always wants him to touch, if he's to be believed and Jon can't imagine why he would lie about it. He's just polite about the fact he's usually not going to get what he wants.

Jon kisses Martin's jaw under his chin, then his throat, then Martin falls back, one hand still clutched in Jon's sleep shirt. Jon smiles and strokes his hand down Martin's chest, over his belly to push up his shirt and press a kiss to the hairy softness there. Martin giggles a little, then moans when Jon licks him. Jon always wants to lick and bite Martin. It's usually never as pleasant to satisfy the urge as it is to imagine it, but Martin whines and squirms and this time it is worth it. It is worth it to lick the salt from the creases of Martin's body, to nibble the sensitive places where stretch marks have silvered his skin, to leave evidence of himself on Martin's skin in teethmarks and shiny streaks of saliva.

When Jon finally gets Martin's soft jogging pants off, Martin is hard and damp with it. Jon doesn't lick, because he already knows this will not be worth it, but he breathes on the dampness and watches it twitch, watches Martin's belly shift with arousal. He wraps his hand around the velvety hardness of it, and Martin gasps aloud, then makes a muffled groan Jon knows well. He's put his hand in his mouth to mute himself. He'll bite it red and raw and Jon should feel bad for it, but he doesn't.

Then Jon begins to pump. Slowly. Almost experimentally. Sometimes he stops to let his fingers explore. His thumb circles the damp tip before drawing a line down the underside. His fingertips feel out veins and following the twitching of arousal. Martin continues to make muffled groans.

Jon leaves Martin's cock to touch his balls. They're soft and always somehow both bigger than he realizes and smaller than he expects. Martin is making a different noise, a whining sound that seesaws between low and high as Jon cups his balls, rolls them in their sac, pulls the skin taut, then swirls his fingers in the folds.

Martin's leg shifts under Jon, and it belatedly occurs to Jon that he's getting hard. He tries to decide if he could stay aroused through preparing himself and taking Martin's cock. As always, the answer is no, so he dismisses the idea out of hand. Maybe one day they'll get Martin's cock in his ass, but so far, Martin's had no complaints.

" _Jon!_ "

What Martin does apparently have a complaint about is Jon idly kneading his balls into the base of his cock. Even that is less a complaint and more a plea. One that Jon isn't of the mind to deny.

With a firm grip and steady pumping, it doesn't take long to get Martin off, his cock spilling over Jon's hands in a gooey mess. Jon kisses Martin's thigh and waits patiently for Martin to recover before getting up to wash his hand off. By the time he's done, Martin is naked and in the bathroom with him. He likes looking at Martin, and gets distracted for the entire time Martin brushes his teeth. Martin laughs at him, and he knows he deserves it.

"Let's shower together," he offers as he begins brushing his own teeth, and he can see the flash of surprise and delight on Martin's face. He usually likes his space, is jealous of it. But he likes Martin more. Being with Martin is like the best parts of being alone, without actually being alone.

Martin runs the water. He likes it a little hotter than Jon, but it will feel good. The bathroom isn't large, and Martin signals when he is moving past Jon with a hand on his shoulder, on his hip, around his waist. It's an excuse to touch Jon, and Jon leans into it, encouraging.

In the shower, Martin washes Jon's hair. His fingers are big and long and feel so good against Jon's scalp. It's the best part of showering with Martin, after the fact that he can lean against Martin and feel Martin's skin against his own.

Martin worries, sometimes, that Jon thinks he has to pay for this shower intimacy with morning handjobs, but Jon knows he doesn't. It's just if he's in the mood for one, he's usually in the mood for the other. Martin finishes washing Jon's hair, and when they trade places so Martin can get under the spray, Jon can't help but touch the broad expanse of Martin's back, tracing his fingers down Martin's spine and feeling out the bottom edges of his shoulderblades. It makes Martin shiver and roll his shoulders into the motion, so Jon can't just stop, now can he?

He washes Martin's back, then his own body, then they trade places again. Martin puts his hands on Jon's waist, when confronted with his back, the heels of his hands kneading up and making Jon moan, unbidden and unexpected. Martin pauses and Jon leans back into the touch, wanting more. Martin obliges him.

By the time Jon is done with it, his back is against Martin's chest, Martin's chin resting on his shoulder, big hands holding his hips back against Martin's. He wraps his hand around himself, closing his eyes even though he knows Martin is watching intently, is turned on by this display. He brings himself to orgasm quickly, sagging against Martin until he's ready to support himself. He washes off again, then gets out of the shower first. He can hear the slapslapslap of Martin's hand moving on himself, can see Martin curled against the shower wall through the curtain.

Martin's voice cracks and calls out to Jon when he finishes, but Jon is almost done drying off. As much as he'd like to be interested, he's not anymore. He tries not to feel bad about it. Martin wouldn't want him to feel bad about it. Jon goes to get dressed.

He has set out the makings for pancakes by the time Martin is dry and dressed, and Martin puts a familiar arm about his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. He briefly leans into it, then directs Martin to get bowls and a pan, so they can begin.

When they finish breakfast, Martin picks up his knitting and he goes back to the book he'd been working on. Martin knits onto Jon's feet in his lap, listening to him complain about his book or periodically read bits of it out in absurd accents for Martin's amusement. By midday, they are both restless, and they pull on socks and shoes, bundling up against the weather outside. The Scottish hills are beautiful and the cows are fluffy and understanding. Most people they pass already know them, smiling and waving. The few who don't, they intentionally avoid, even though Jon desperately wants to talk to them, to hear their stories, to _know_ them.

Martin protects them and him, and they keep walking until they've worn themselves out. They take a break and return home, holding hands the whole way, sometimes pausing to smile at each other from too close in ways that often result in kissing. Jon rather enjoys kissing Martin.

After their walk, Jon takes a nap, because he is undeniably the more out of shape of them, and Martin makes something simple for lunch. There is enough lunch that when Jon wakes for dinner, they have that. They'll have to do more shopping soon, but not tonight.

Tonight, they curl up on the couch together to watch a grainy movie on the old television set in the living room. They aren't really watching it, so much as using it as an excuse to cuddle together. Jon is forever delighted and astonished by the fact that if he wants to touch Martin, he just can. Martin holds onto Jon like he's afraid Jon will vanish if he doesn't. Jon feels bad for enjoying it as much as he does.

Martin grounds him, makes him feel like he's solid, like he's real, like he's a _person_.

Eventually, Jon's back hurts from laying on the couch and Martin is fed up with the movie. They change for bed and lay together. Jon almost always starts with his back against Martin's side, but it never takes long before he's curled up on Martin's chest again, one leg wrapped around Martin's, his head tucked under Martin's chin. It's warm and soft and just right.

And tomorrow will be more of the same.

How amazing is that?


End file.
